Apex
by Oni-Gil
Summary: Sequel to Rise. The shaky Autobot-Decepticon alliance is severely tested when Cybertron comes under attack. When the unthinkable happens, one young mech must lead his race to victory... or extinction.
1. The Scout

**A/N:** Hello and welcome back! (Or just plain welcome, if you're new.)

"Apex" is the sequel to my story "Rise," as was mentioned in the summary. I STRONGLY urge any new readers to read that first, simply because this won't make much sense without it. (You'll like it, I promise.)

This will be a bit different from Rise in that some chapters will be in third-person. There are just too many things going on.

Enjoy!

* * *

**1. The Scout**

* * *

In the cold, dark reaches of deep space, the alien fleet seemed to hang suspended. With no point of reference it was impossible to tell how rapidly these ships moved. In space everything was far-between, and the same stars shone coldly in the distance, unmoving, for light-years.

The fleet had traveled for centivorns, leaving behind a dying world in search of a new home, stealing its fuel from any resource-rich planet it passed and leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. The ships would soon reach their destination: a small metallic planet orbiting a minor star.

It was not the planet itself that interested the fleet, but rather the inhabitants. Mechanical life-forms, built to serve, which had developed sentience, independence.

Some of the fleet had been lost on the journey, some to navigational errors leading them into the heart of a star or the pit of a black hole, some to the mysterious beings which lived in the endless darkness of space. Yet enough remained for their violent purpose. These were warships, built to conquer and destroy.

A lone shuttle-type sporting purple insignias on broad wings watched the strange fleet from the cover of a drifting cloud of gas.

No question about it. They were on a direct course for Cybertron.

He had to get back and warn the Commander. This fleet, though diminished during its age-old journey, was massive. Dozens of battleships surrounded one particularly large and imposing craft, with smaller ships in between, the combined strength of an entire world brought to bear. If they caught Cybertron by surprise…

The shuttle was fast enough to get back to Cybertron well in advance of these ships. He could not fail, or a fleet this strong could spell the doom of all Cybertronians. He peeled away from his cover, powering up his thrusters.

He failed to notice the enemy fighters closing in on him from behind.

The fleet moved on, inexorable.


	2. The Commander

**2. The Commander**

* * *

The blue sky which beckoned just beyond the thin pane of glass had never looked so inviting, yet just when my Spark whispered at me to shirk my duties and go flying, I remained weighted to my desk by all these heaps of datapads.

If I'd thought leading the Decepticons would be easy in peacetime—or at least _easier _than it had been during the War—I had been horribly wrong. It was nearly fifty vorns since the war, and instead of tactics, troop movements, and the like, I now slogged through all manner of problems. Resource allocation was only the least of my worries, and even _t__hat_ was a touchy subject. Though Cybertron was slowly recovering from the war, some areas still suffered energon shortages. And there was the reconstruction _still_ in progress, rebuilding those city-states that had been destroyed in the war, such as Simfur and Helex.

Everything had been simpler during the war, but I didn't miss it. Now the only fights were few and far between, among those Autobots and Decepticons who had not been prepared for peace. They were the minority now, and declining.

Still, even now—nearly fifty vorns later—Decepticons and Autobots remained two completely separate cultures, and cooperation between them was strained at best. Although Optimus Prime and I did our best to bring Cybertron together, the very foundations of our alliance remained insecure. This meant even more work, more of these slagging datapads.

I picked one up, scanned it, and set it down again, leaning back in my chair to stare at the ceiling. This was a fairly new building, built after the War. The old administrative structure still stood, but I refused to step inside—long ago, before Megatron had risen up from the murky underworld and begun the war, the Senator from Kaon had occupied that building, and I had no desire to walk those hallways, sit in that office, knowing _who_ that Senator had been...

I offlined my optics. _Don't think of that._

Too late. Now that my processor had dwelled on it, even for a moment, I was almost certain to dream of him tonight.

The nightmares had grown fewer over the vorns, but no less intense; the memories remained seared into me.

Sensing my sudden unease, both of my bondmates sent a pulse of reassurance and affection. I smiled, sending back the same. The vorns had strengthened our bond, as I had known they would; Apis was visiting her old home in Khalkon, accompanied by Stutterrun, and Ramrod and Spindle were in Autobot territory learning Circuit-Su from Prowl, but I felt them as plainly as though they were here with me.

I sighed again, regretfully. How had Optimus ever managed to spend time with me?

_The same way I spend time with my sparklings, _I thought. _In every spare moment._

I was young, for a creator—most mechs waited at least an astrocycle to bond, let alone create sparklings, but I wasn't even half that. Sometimes I wondered if I was _too_ young, if all three of us were. What did we know about the world? We had been through experiences that no mech should endure, yet when it came to our sparklings...

"Commander!" someone called from the door.

"Come in," I answered automatically, sitting up and shifting a few datapads around in an effort to look busy. The door slid open to admit Skyburn, one of the flightleaders, followed by three Seekers. One look at Skyburn's face told me that his news wasn't cheerful.

"Disgrace to the Decepticon name," the shuttle managed, apparently too furious to form a sentence. "Undermining everything we've worked for."

"I'll deal with them, Skyburn," I said, suddenly exhausted. "Thank you."

"These young bots... don't appreciate what they've got... put them all to work for a few vorns..."

"Thank you, Skyburn."

Muttering, Skyburn left. I observed the three Seekers; two of them were nearly identical from helm to thrusters, except for minute differences in their faceplates. The third was pale silver, almost white, and slightly larger than the other two.

"Well," I said finally.

"Silvertrail has nothing to do with this," the left twin said.

"He wasn't involved," the other added.

"I should have stopped them," Silvertrail said. "They are my responsibility."

"Thank you, Silvertrail," I said—I had always liked him. "You're dismissed."

Silvertrail hesitated, but obeyed, casting his trinemates a last glance.

I stood, circled my desk, and leaned back against it, crossing my arms over my chest as I regarded the twin Seekers who shared my face, my eldest sparklings.

"This is the third time in as many decacycles," I told them. Black Hole, to my left, shifted but said nothing. Spacespot made no response. "I thought you'd grown out of this. What was it this time?"

"We were just messing with those Autobot twins," Black Hole said.

"Again."

"Yes. Not our fault they overreacted."

I shook my head. "I know your definition of 'messing around.' This _has_ to stop. I'm up to my pilot array in work trying to hold this alliance together, and it's beginning to look like you're deliberately trying to sabotage it."

"So we're going to single-handedly destroy the alliance?" Spacespot snapped. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Other people start fights all the time and they don't have to answer to the _Supreme Commander_."

"That's different. And I didn't say you were going to—"

"How is it different?" Black Hole said. "What if we don't want to walk around like nice little princes? What if we want to live a little?"

"We can't just do whatever we want," Spacespot answered sardonically, quoting past lectures. "We're the heirs to the Empire, we're supposed to be _good_."

"Spot," I said sharply. "I'm asking you as your creator... try to behave. Don't make me turn this into an order. Don't you care about anything? Or can't you think beyond yourselves long enough to understand the consequences of your actions? What you do reflects on me, on all Decepticons, and right now you aren't helping our image."

The twins remained silent, staring sulkily at the floor. I cycled a long intake.

"Just go," I said finally. "I'll talk to you about this later."

They left one after the other, neither glancing back. I sat in one of the chairs opposite mine, staring out of the window.

That hadn't gone well. It was hard enough worrying about the stability of the alliance without having to deal with two unpredictable, mischief-loving sparklings, especially when it was time for them to grow up and accept their responsibilities. How would Optimus have handled this?

I sighed, offlining my optics.

_I wish I knew._

* * *

"I don't know what to do with them, Warp," I confessed a megacycle later, gratefully accepting the energon Sunstorm had offered. A good flight with my trine had helped to soothe my feelings, but the matter of the twins still left me distressed.

"They're just kids," Skywarp answered with a shrug, his purple-striped wings rising and falling. "They'll grow out of it."

"_You_ didn't," Sunstorm reminded him gently, smiling.

"That isn't really helping," I said. "They should know better. Am I not cut out to be a creator? I don't know how to deal with them. As their Commander I know what to do, but as their creator I..."

"It's not your fault, Nova. You're doing fine."

"But if they prove themselves worthy, they'll be the ones leading the Decepticons—"

"They won't be leading the Decepticons in a long time."

"—but they don't even seem to care about that," I finished.

"They care," Sunstorm said. He was close to the twins, since his limitless energy—from his origins as Starscream's clone and a test subject in Shockwave's experiments—was a way to ease their Hunger, the condition resulting from their split-Spark nature. "They care very much."

"Then why do they never show it?" I demanded. "How can I hold this alliance together... keep the Decepticons in line... if I can't even control my own sparklings?"

Skywarp's optics brightened in a flare of scarlet. "Maybe all they need is some character building!"

"Like what, exactly?" I asked doubtfully.

"A long patrol," he answered. "Starscream used to assign them all the time when his Seekers were getting out of hand. Send them out into space for a few decacycles. When they get back you'll hardly even recognize them."

I couldn't ignore the little twist of guilt those words triggered. I hardly knew them _already_. "Isn't that dangerous, especially since they've never done it before?"

"Sure it's dangerous, but that builds character. And they'll have Silvertrail with them. He's dependable. There's nothing that'll hurt them out there. Comets, some asteroids... they'll love it."

"I'll talk to Apis and Ramrod about it later," I answered.

"Trust me, a trip like this will be just what the medic ordered."

"Speaking of which, where's Dash? I haven't seen him all orn. He's been making himself scarce for..."

"Ever," Skywarp snorted. "Hiding in his lab, I'll bet. Are you sure that's _Ramrod's_ kid?"

"Yes," I grumbled, swatting his nudging elbow. "Dash is just shy, Warp. Don't tease him."

"He should get over it already! He's not a protoform any more, so he needs to toughen up."

"He will. Just give him time." Dash was our second-youngest, only a few orbits older than Spindle. He seemed too withdrawn for his Seeker frame, preferring to tinker in his lab whenever possible. Truthfully, Spindle seemed more like Ramrod, for all that he was Apis's and mine.

But we all loved Dash, even the twins. Someday, I hoped, he would come out of his shell, but until then, all we could do was wait patiently.

"I should go find him," I decided. "Maybe something's wrong."

Sure enough, I could hear the telltale sounds of Dash working in his laboratory as I neared the door. It was almost always better to approach Dash in his own territory, where he felt more comfortable.

I rang the chime beside the door. "Dash? It's Nova."

The door slid open. "Oh. Come in."

I entered, glancing around. Dash's laboratory wasn't very big, but it was well-stocked; evidence of his tinkering lay on the counters around the walls and more sat in the numerous compartments above. Dash himself was in the middle of the organized chaos, fiddling with something on the central table.

"What are you working on, Dash?"

"Nothing really," he answered. Ordinarily his speech was marked by a nervous stutter, but not here in his lab and certainly not when he was speaking to me. He rarely stuttered when he spoke to his family. "Just something to pass the time. I started earlier this orn."

"So this isn't what's been keeping you away in here for the past orbit or so," I observed, leaning on the only counter that was remotely cleared. Dash flinched visibly, his hands twitching as he set down his contraption. "Is it?"

"N-not really."

I waited. Dash would come out with it if I let him; he didn't need much prompting.

"Are Ramrod and Spindle back from Iacon yet?"

"Not for another few orns. Why?"

Dash looked at the floor, his pedes shifting and his wings flicking back and forth. "I sh-should have gone too. To learn Circuit-Su. Or something."

The pieces began to fall together. I briefly offlined my optics; I knew where this was headed. "Did Ramrod ask you to go with him?"

Dash still didn't look at me. "He knew I wouldn't go," he mumbled. "I never go anywhere. But he asked Spin. And Spindle likes those things."

I waited. Finally, Dash blurted, "Does Ramrod wish _Spindle_ were his creation instead of me? Spin always does those fighting things with him. I don't like to fight."

"Of course not," I hastened to reassure him. This wasn't the first time Dash had expressed these feelings, although as far as I knew he had never spoken to Ramrod about it. Dash wasn't much like Ramrod, but I knew my bondmate cared deeply for him anyway. From the moment Dash had unfolded from his tiny egg-type protoform—Ratchet and Shockwave claimed this was how sparklings in Vos had spent their first several vorns, and Skywarp had confirmed it—Ramrod had taken care of him, fussed over him, hardly left his side until Dash was older. "Dash, you know we all love you."

His wings still drooped and he nodded glumly, clearly unconvinced.

* * *

It always began the same way. I never dreamed of the pain, the beatings... only of the other things. It always caught me off-guard, because it began with hands stroking my wings.

When Apis and Ramrod weren't there, I had no escape, not unless Skywarp and Sunstorm heard me and came running. I was trapped there, warmth becoming burning heat in my Spark chamber, threatening to break me open...

"Nova, hey, wake up!"

I jolted out of recharge with Skywarp's optics above me; I sat up, resisting the need to purge my tanks, core temperature dropping as all my cooling fans kicked on.

"You all right?" he asked quietly. I saw Sunstorm hovering just behind him, enhanced plating glowing faintly in the dark, also looking concerned. For a split-klik his optics, as golden as the rest of him, dragged me back to where another set of pale yellow optics mocked me, a blue-white Spark dragged at mine...

"I'm fine," I answered, vocalizer sore and staticky. I leaned forward, settling my face in my hands. For a few cycles there was silence; finally my trinemates laid their hands on my wings, and I allowed them to pet and comfort.

"I used to have these nightmares all the time when I was carrying," I whispered. When he had whispered to me in my dreams, convincing me that the little Spark burning next to mine was _his_ sparkling, that he and I...

"Are you carrying now?"

"Primus, no. Two was enough."

"Then what brought this on?"

"I thought about him today."

"That was enough?" The query was posed gently.

"It always is." I pressed the heels of my hands into my optic shutters. "Even after all these vorns, that's all it takes. The mention of his designation, the sight of that Pit-fragged building... anything to do with him."

Neither answered; what could they say?

* * *

**A/N: **And after a nice introductory chapter of flowers and bunnies, the good stuff begins...


	3. The Twins

**3. The Twins**

* * *

"Pit yeah! Space!" Black Hole rejoiced, pumping a fist into the air. "You ever been up there, Silvertrail?"

"Once or twice, but never on a deep patrol. Mostly to the moonbases and back."

"This is going to be so much _fun_," Blackie pressed on. His brother, meanwhile, glowered from his perch on the berth.

"Don't you see what they're doing? It's so _obvious_."

"See what?" Black Hole asked, puzzled.

Spacespot folded his arms tightly over his cockpit, snorting. "He's trying to get us out of the way. There's some formal gathering up in Simfur next orbit and he doesn't want us there to mess it up. So he sends us out into deep space where there are no Autobots to bait."

"All the same," Silvertrail put in gently, "Nova _will_ take criticism because you aren't there." He hesitated, not wanting to embarrass the twins, but his mates always counted on him to say what they needed to hear, whether they liked it or not. "You cause him more trouble than he deserves. Your creator can't afford to..."

"You sound like Sunstorm," Spacespot sneered, but there was no real venom in it; even Spacespot, who had few close friends and kept himself cold and aloof, couldn't be genuinely annoyed at Silvertrail.

Black Hole wouldn't meet his trinemate's optics. "It's not that we want to make problems for him. We just want to have some fun."

"Perhaps you should apologize to him," Silvertrail suggested delicately. Dealing with the twins—especially on this particular subject—meant dancing along a fine line. If he didn't push them hard enough, they would wave off his words; if he pushed too hard, they would snap back.

For a moment it looked as though the twins, or at least Black Hole, would agree; then Spacespot jumped down from the berth. "That can wait until we get back. Come on, I'm sick of this place."

* * *

Spacespot had always been the fastest of the trine, and the most pushy, so they had long ago fallen into their natural formation with him at the head. This time, however, Silvertrail took the lead as they arrowed up from Kaon, pushing their thrusters to the maximum in order to escape Cybertron's gravity. The heat of the upper atmosphere licked around them, great enough to make their plating glow red.

The cold of space drenched them as they shot out of the atmosphere.

_/P__rimus,/_ Black Hole commed in awe as they passed one of the moons. Up ahead, Silvertrail slowed and drifted, transforming to smile at them.

_/Turn around,/_ he said.

The twins did so. Black Hole's jaw dropped; Spacespot's reaction was less visible, but just as intense. Cybertron hung below them, glowing with a silver sheen. From here Spacespot could see some of the landscape's more dramatic features, such as the great canyons and even some of the largest spires. Half of the planet was plunged into shadow, but he could see parts of the Rust Sea, the great wasteland created during astrocycles of warfare.

_/It's beautiful,/_ Blackie commed, along with an impression of his amazement. Spacespot agreed inwardly.

Beautiful, but also familiar. As though he'd seen it before, many times.

_/Spot?/ _That was Black Hole, sensing his feelings through the deep connection they shared. It wasn't the same as a Spark bond, but his twin had always been able to tell when he was upset. _/Are you all right?/_

_ /Don't call me that,/ _Spacespot answered automatically.

* * *

Spacespot had been this way for as long as he could remember. He recognized people and places he'd never seen, knew things he'd never been taught.

The worst of it, which had mercifully become less frequent as he had grown older, were the fits. Times when he would lose himself, and do things. His only memories of these times were vague and dreamlike. Once he'd awakened in Vos, at a tomb he'd never seen, curled up in front of the dais which held two greyed Seeker frames. Another time he had appeared in Iacon, deep inside the warriors' vault, staring fixedly at Megatron's frame. He'd woken covered in paint, the first time it had happened when Silvertrail had been with them.

No one could understand it, least of all Spacespot. This was the only thing he did not share with Black Hole.

Sometimes he thought Nova knew, or at least suspected. Every time it happened he saw Nova watching him strangely, but as much as he wanted to talk to his creator about it, Nova always dodged his questions or changed the subject.

Even now, flying through space, he felt as though he'd done this before. It had taken Blackie breems to get used to the lack of gravity, but Spacespot had taken to it at once. He felt comfortable, at home, but something was missing. Frowning, he tried to pursue the flicker of not-his-memory... something large, and white, and kind... endless space enveloping them both, creating their own private world...

_/Spacespot, what's wrong with you?/ _Black Hole commed, scattering the feeling. _/Pay attention! This is amazing. You can't space out now... get it? Space out?/_

Spacespot groaned, even though he knew the sound wouldn't carry. _/Please, Blackie, that was horrible./_

But he _did_ enjoy the view. It was beautiful out here; all the stars burned brighter when unshrouded by Cybertron's atmosphere. They flew past distant nebulae, clouds of multicolored gases which sometimes formed fantastic shapes.

They had been traveling for about an orbit now, and even Spacespot could be secretly grateful to Nova for sending them. There was room and time to think out here, wrapped in infinite silence. He sensed that his brother was experiencing the same guilt. Silvertrail and Sunstorm were right: Nova had so much to deal with, and he and Black Hole weren't helping. The lectures always bit hard, because in some ways Nova was _right. _Spacespot knew he was expected to take on his creator's role, far, far in the future. He wanted it, but at the same time he wanted to relax, have fun. He was afraid, he admitted to himself. Afraid of the responsibility. What if he did something wrong? What if hundreds of mechs died because he said or did something thoughtless?

But he had to learn someday. Maybe when they returned, he might approach Nova and...

Spacespot's proximity sensors went off and he drew up short, drifting with his inertia.

_/There's something out there./_

Silvertrail gestured at the asteroids around them; they had been practicing their maneuvers here, daring each other to dangerous races among the huge chunks of metal and rock. _/Could it just be the asteroids? That's all I'm picking up./_

_ /No. There's something else here. I'm getting energy __readings, and not __ours__./_

After a moment, Black Hole commed, _/You're right. I'm getting it too. Want to check it out?/_

_ /We have no idea what lives out here,/ _Silvertrail cautioned them. _/It could be dangerous./_

_ /Dangerous? That's __the point of this whole 'character building' thing, right?/ _Spacespot scoffed. _/Come on, let's go./_

Under his brave face, Spacespot was more nervous than he let on. He'd heard stories about the phantom creatures which lurked in the endless shadows of deep space. But he shook it off and led the way—surely his trine could repel anything they found out here.

_/Did you see that?/ _Silvertrail asked suddenly.

_ /See what?/_

_ /A flash from up ahead. There it is again!/_

_ /I saw it./_

The three Seekers proceeded with caution. Then Spacespot stopped, optics widening.

_/What the frag?/_

The others saw it, too; it was impossible to miss the fleet blasting its way through the asteroid field, seemingly uncaring of the chunks of rock scattered everywhere by the explosions.

_/It's headed right towards us,/ _Black Hole said nervously.

_/No, not toward us,/ _Silvertrail realized, his horror evident. _/If they maintain their present course.../_

_ /...they're on a direct route to Cybertron,/ _Spacespot finished, watching as the ships reduced a massive asteroid to rubble in mere kliks. _/And they don't look friendly./_

_ /Slow down. Blowing their way through an asteroid field doesn't necessarily mean they have hostile intentions./_

_ /No, __but _that_ does!/ _Black Hole answered, pointing. Three small ships, fighters around the Seekers' size, were headed directly for them. _/I don't think they're happy to see us./_

As if on cue, the enemy ships fired on them. The trine folded into their altmodes.

_/I'll take the one in the middle,/_ Spacespot said, shooting forward.

One of the ships tried to get an angle on Silvertrail, but he dodged behind an asteroid and the alien craft followed.

Black Hole sped fearlessly towards the last ship, firing as he spun several barrel rolls to avoid the barrage from the other craft. The alien fighter overshot him; Black Hole transformed and flipped over to fire right up the alien's engines. The ship exploded spectacularly. _/First one to me!/ _he crowed, pleased to have bested Spacespot.

His brother finished off his opponent a moment later. _/Where is Silvertrail?/_

_ /There!/_

Silvertrail had led the other ship into a dense cluster of asteroids. Though the other fighter was clearly well-trained, even other Seekers couldn't keep up with Silvertrail's dizzying acrobatics and quick reflexes as he darted through the obstacles. Finally the alien careened into an asteroid that Silvertrail had nimbly dipped beneath. The third trinemate returned to the twins, face dark.

_/We have to get back and warn Cybertron__./_

_ /What were those things?/ _Black Hole asked. _/Were they mechs, like us?/_

_ /I don't know. Either way, they weren't friendly./_

_ /We can make it back to Cybertron before they __get there. Right?/_

_ /Even that might not be enough time,/ _Spacespot answered grimly. Some deep instinct convinced him that he had seen ships like these before, and he had learned to trust his Spark's strange impulses. _/It may already be too late./_


	4. The Prime

**A/N: **You didn't think I'd forgotten, did you? I've been quite busy with an original novel lately, but Transformers Prime kept pushing me towards writing, and DOTM, for all its faults as a movie, finally made me open this story again. If there seems to be an abrupt shift from blah to action, I blame it on nearly a year away from this half-written chapter. I've also been editing Rise (up through chapter 24) and I did a tiny bit of editing on the previous three chapters of this story.

Enjoy!**  
**

* * *

**4. The Prime**

* * *

Cybertron flowed beneath us, brilliant planes of metal in the full light of our sun. Chasms carved dark scars in the landscape, showing up purple on my topographical sensors. Even at this altitude we could "see" some of the greater cities with their wide, elevated roadways and glittering buildings. We traveled too high to make out mechs below, except for the occasional flier passing nearby.

We passed over a great thicket of spires, which appeared to my scanners as a sharp staccato of bright yellow points. Another time, I might have taken my trine down to fly between them, exercising our reflexes and agility as we often had in the past.

I would have smiled if I were in bipedal mode. How many times had we taken Spot and Blackie to play among the spires? And, of course, how many of those games had ended in a trip to the Constructicons to get wings patched or plating undented?

But this time our errand lay elsewhere. To express my excitement, I turned a few barrel rolls, noticing with amusement that Skywarp did the same.

_/Looking forward to seeing Prime again?/_

_ /Of course,/ _I answered. _/I always am./_

The first sign of our approach was the wind, which came in strong gusts behind us, pushing us northward. I remembered flying against these winds long ago. Starscream had been with me then, and we had been fleeing Iacon. I vividly recalled how low we had been on fuel, how terrified I had been as I fled my home, pursued by those I'd known all my life, traveling into the unknown.

The winds of Simfur had been against us then. The night before I had learned that Starscream was my creator, that I had been Sparked a Decepticon. By that time I had grown out of my old prejudices, but the learning had still left me numb. Back then, I could never have imagined what would become of me.

Simfur appeared below us in a matter of breems, now that we had the wind at our thrusters. The sight of the city no longer made me wince, though I could still vividly see its destruction in my memories. It was one of the few times that I had ever been ashamed to call Starscream my creator and my friend: he had ordered the city's destruction after the Emirate had surrendered.

Since the war's end, we had been rebuilding the city. To show my remorse for Starscream's actions, the workers and resources came from the Decepticons, though the city was well within Autobot territory. The city remained a tense area; Decepticons and Autobots lived side by side, interacting on a regular basis.

Now that the reconstruction was nearly complete, I was to meet with Optimus Prime to celebrate Simfur's return. Skywarp and Sunstorm of course accompanied me, and better still, Apis and Ramrod would be there as well.

We angled downward in perfect synchrony; I reluctantly let gravity catch me once more in its firm embrace. Admittedly our dive was showing off, but we were Seekers, the most graceful creatures in the air. Why shouldn't we flaunt it? Let the groundpounders admire us.

Our trine transformed and landed gracefully. I noticed in embarrassment that many of those who had gathered to watch our arrival were cheering. Though in general the Autobots remained distrustful of Decepticons, I had been astonished to discover that many of them still regarded me as some sort of hero.

"Just smile and wave, Nova," Skywarp suggested, following his own advice. "It's still new to have Autobots applauding me rather than opening fire."

"They aren't applauding _you_," Sunstorm reminded him.

"It's a step in the right direction."

"Is it?" I asked. "They think I'm a fluke. I've heard what they say. They think I only turned out this way because I was raised by an Autobot."

"Hypocrites," Skywarp snorted. "So they think you turned out this way because of your good clean Autobot upbringing? When you lived in Iacon, they treated you like dirt!"

While Skywarp was right, I wondered how I would have ended up without Optimus's influence. I repressed a shudder, thinking of the time after my escape from slavery in Kalis, when I had descended completely into bitter hatred of the Autobots. Was that, a near copy of my co-creator Megatron, how I could have been if not for Optimus?

Prime waited nearby. He clasped my hand warmly to further cheering from the watching crowd, blue optics bright and unmasked face smiling. "Nova. It's good to see you."

"And you, Optimus," I answered. I still had to crane my neck to look up at him.

Optimus Prime was as close as a creator to me. In many ways he was more my parent than Starscream had been. He had raised me as his own, teaching me about love and justice and freedom, though it had taken many vorns for those lessons to fully absorb. There was no mech I held in higher esteem, and no one I would ever be more proud to know.

"The city looks wonderful, Nova. Did the Constructicons design it?"

"Yes. They couldn't resist the challenge. There was some trouble with the Autobot elders, who wanted the city to look exactly as it once did, but they eventually backed down."

We moved through the streets, heading towards the center of the city. Optimus engaged all three of us in conversation; he'd met Sunstorm shortly after the war's end, and he had known Skywarp for far longer. I alternated between speaking with the others and looking around the city. Everywhere I saw signs of the continued tension between Autobots and Decepticons: the way mechs moved around each other, the way they glared at each other. I wondered if Optimus noticed it, too.

"Go back to Kaon!" I heard from a window, but when we twisted around to look, there was no one to be seen.

"The alliance is a betrayal of our fallen comrades!" came another shout. This time I didn't bother to look. I'd heard far worse over the past fifty vorns.

The four of us entered the new Emirate's estate and I was immediately dazzled by the elaborate crystal gardens just inside the gate we had used.

"They must have brought some of this in," Sunstorm observed, leaning in (not too close, conscious of the heat and radiation emitted by his experimental power core) for a better look. "Crystals like these take decacycles to grow."

"That's true," Optimus answered. "Many feared that the art had been lost during the War, but gardens like these can be found in many city-states. I understand that your bondmate has taken charge of one in Kaon?"

But I had already darted several steps forward on the path, stretching out my arms to catch Apis as she came dashing towards me. She laughed as I spun her around, holding her close as I kissed her vigorously.

"Hello, handsome," she purred, linking her fingers at the back of my neck. "Miss me?"

"Of course I did," I answered, basking in the warmth billowing from her Spark. "Where are the others?"

"Stutter is off flirting somewhere…"

"No doubt."

Apis laughed again, her handlebars flicking happily. "Ramrod and Spindle are around here somewhere. They arrived earlier today with Prowl, and then Ramrod found Ironhide, and then…"

"The usual? Just like them."

I grudgingly disentangled myself from my bondmate. I hadn't seen her for two orbits, but I was eager to find Ramrod, who had been gone even longer. I felt his concentration and fierce enjoyment coming across the bond between us—he and Ironhide fought every time they met, but everyone knew that they just enjoyed needling each other. They were so alike that they had become fast friends.

We moved through the gardens and into the open courtyard. There were more mechs here, some coming in and out, others gathered around the place where two red mechs battled playfully. One looked up, his optics lighting in delight.

"Good timing, Nova," Ramrod called cheerfully. "You can team up with this rustbucket so I can kick _both_ of your skidplates."

"Save that chatter 'til you've popped those dents outta yer aft, ya punk," Ironhide growled back.

"Call off your match, old friend," Optimus said. "There will be plenty of time for that later."

Ironhide cuffed Ramrod over the helm before approaching Optimus. Ramrod took Apis and me in either arm.

"You never change," I commented. He grinned, nipping playfully at my head vents.

"You wouldn't like it if I did."

* * *

The meeting with the Emirate went smoothly. The Autobots were polite, if chilly; Optimus's presence kept them civil. After the formal review of the reconstruction, we retired for energon. I did my best to respond diplomatically to the Autobots' condescending attitude, all the while keeping a running commentary over comm with Apis and Ramrod about what I would rather have said.

Finally, the Emirate asked, "What is your opinion of the state of the alliance, Lord Nova?" He said "lord" as pointedly as possible.

"It could be worse," I answered. "Politically speaking, both sides have been treated fairly. On the streets, however, it will take a long time for thousands of astrocycles of war to wear away."

"Wise words from a mech without even an astrocycle behind him," the Emirate answered.

"His generation will suffer from our mistakes long after we are gone," Optimus reminded him gently. He turned to me. "What do you think it would take for Autobots and Decepticons to put aside their differences?"

"I don't know if we can," I answered frankly. From the look on Optimus's face, he agreed.

Before anyone could speak again on that uncomfortable topic, an Autobot messenger rushed in. "There are three Seekers coming in fast," he said.

The Emirate looked coldly at me. "Yours?"

I was already on my way into the open air, followed by Prime and many of the others. As the trine came nearer, I recognized my twins' tell-tale energy signatures and suppressed my annoyance. They should have been gone for orbits!

Their transformation and landing was uncharacteristically sloppy, the first sign that something was wrong. The moment his pedes hit the ground, Black Hole keeled over, his optics flickering. The other two were in a similar state.

"Bring energon," I ordered, kneeling beside my fallen sparkling to check that he was otherwise undamaged. "What are you doing here?" I asked Spacespot, who leaned on Silvertrail for support.

"We found an alien fleet," he gasped. "Hostile. Headed right for Cybertron."

"How can you be sure it's hostile?"

"They attacked us!"

I didn't want to doubt my own sparkling, but I knew Spacespot's history of starting fights, so I looked to Silvertrail for confirmation.

"We had just picked them up on our scanners," he said tiredly. Someone finally brought energon to the exhausted trine; I helped Black Hole into a sitting position to drink his fuel. "We went to scout and they sent warriors to destroy us."

"Organic or mechanical?"

"We couldn't tell."

"Nova," Optimus broke in, his voice low and tight. "I'm receiving an urgent signal from Moonbase One." The first moonbase was occupied by Autobots, the second by Decepticons. "This fleet has passed the outliers. They estimate that by the time it reaches us it will be over Altihex."

"That isn't far," I answered. "I'll take the Decepticons stationed here."

"What about the reconstruction?" the Emirate asked.

"You may need it more later if this fleet _is _hostile."

_ /This is an urgent message to all Decepticons. An unknown alien fleet is approaching Cybertron,/_ I broadcast to as many 'cons as my range allowed, as well as my private channel to the command team. I knew they would pass on the orders. _/Scramble to combat readiness. Fliers, you are the first line of defense./_

I gave more specific orders to each of the command team; although the fleet might arrive above Altihex, there was no telling if or where they would strike. It would make no sense to gather all of our forces in Altihex only to suffer an attack on Kaon or Iacon. The forces stationed here for the reconstruction would rendezvous with Ramrod and I outside of the main city; I would take the fliers, he would lead the groundframes.

"My forces are on the move," I told Optimus aloud, "but it will take time."

"We don't even have a garrison in Altihex," Optimus answered grimly. "But my mechs are also ready."

While I allocated part of my processing power to monitor the comm channels and keep track of my army's movements, I refueled quickly and made ready to depart. Skywarp, Sunstorm, and Ramrod did the same; the forces under Ramrod's command would travel with Optimus Prime and Ironhide.

Fully fueled and prepared for battle, I approached Apis, who had summoned Stutterrun and Spindle.

"Take Spin and Stutter back to Kaon," I told her quietly.

"Stay safe," she answered, sending a pulse of reassurance and strength across our bond. This little femme would fight to the death for our family. I caught her up in a brief embrace.

Next to us, I heard Ramrod murmur to Spindle, "Dash will be scared. Take care of him?"

Spin nodded seriously. A cyclebot like Apis and in training with Prowl, he was not the type to overtly display his emotions. "I will."

Ramrod's smile pulled rather thin as he glanced at me. "We're right behind you. Save some for me, will you?"

"I'll try," I answered, catching a wave of affection and concern. We were both warriors; we had gone into battle before without knowing whether or not we would ever see each other again.

As I approached my wingmates, I noticed Spacespot and his trine following me.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked.

"We're going with you," Spacespot answered, coming to a halt. His expression, and that of his twin, was stubborn and determined.

"We're Decepticon warriors," Black Hole said. "Not sparklings. You know we're ready for battle."

"We _are_ ready," Silvertrail finished. "It's our duty, Commander."

"I need you to go with Apis and your siblings," I said. When Spacespot and Black Hole bristled, opening their mouths to protest, I took one of the twins' shoulders in each hand. "I need you to protect them," I said, speaking to all three, but my optics fell on Silvertrail. He was dependable. He would see my twins, and the rest of my family, safely home. I meant exactly what I said: I knew they were trained and ready for battle, able to take care of themselves, and I needed them in Kaon in case of a surprise attack. "You have your orders."

For a moment I thought the twins would argue. Then, at precisely the same time, their expressions shifted from childish stubbornness toward more mature understanding.

"Yes, sir," Spacespot answered, for once without a hint of irony.

I softened my tone, speaking now as their creator, not their commander. "You've done well. Stay safe. Look out for each other."

Black Hole nuzzled briefly against my hand while Spacespot offered something close to a smile. All three of them joined Apis, Spindle, and Stutterrun.

"I'll meet you in Altihex," I told Prime. He had his battlemask on.

"Let us hope our fears are unfounded."


End file.
